Gaming

Dragon Quest XI – The Disneyland of JRPGs

If you’ve ever been to Disneyland (which you no doubt have if you’re a human who has lived on Earth between 1955 and right now), then you’ve also probably become acquainted with the ‘classic’ rides featured in the parks which, despite their inherent lack of impressive features or technology, draw in abhorrently long queues of people. Based on older Disney properties like Peter Pan, Pinocchio, and Snow White, these attractions remain as popular as ever due to an attribute rarely seen in any entertainment medium: Timelessness.

And it’s this elusive quality that has me so utterly enthralled in the world of Dragon Quest XI: Echoes of an Elusive Age (Yes, I know I’m late to the party). With the storied series being something of a cultural phenomenon in Japan, I was exposed to all its quirky and cute oddness on our trip earlier this year, with every other shop being packed with merchandise and props. And while I’ve had a passing familiarity with the series for a few years now, I’m ashamed to admit this is my first time actually playing one of the games. But, my dudes, I cannot express the purest joy I now feel having given it a go. 

And now the weird Disneyland tangent at the beginning comes into play, as, during my first ten hours or so with Dragon Quest XI, I felt this feeling of snuggly warmth which I hadn’t really experienced in games prior to this. And then it struck me. Dragon Quest XI is an old Disneyland ride. Now, this may sound like the ramblings of a wannabe journalist grasping for an analogy, which it is, but I feel like the similarities are abundant between the two entertainment forms. Both share a distinctly vintage approach to design and storytelling, for one. They are slow and somewhat meandering, but this only serves to strengthen the fairytale-like nature of it all.

Moreover, neither the game nor the attractions concern themselves with satiating one’s lust for excitement, only the natural fondness for comfort and good vibes shared by (hopefully) most people. You’ll not find any ridiculously imposing boss fights or arduous grinding via random encounters in DQ XI. Instead, you’ll find yourself wrapped in a cosy digital blanket of ostentatiously crafted towns, open fields, and breezy combat encounters. And, like most other JRPGs, the gratification of leveling up a party member gives your brain a pleasant tingly feeling, which I hope is an intentional sensation drawn out by developer Square Enix and not some undiagnosed medical condition.

Anyways, speaking of towns, this game has a whole lot of them. And each one is as delightfully charismatic in design and in populace as the last. For example, a village which you’ll encounter fairly early in the story is called Hotto. This locale sits at the base of an inky black volcano, and its architecture is distinctly Eastern, with ornate, pagoda-like structures housing the town’s amenities.

The hot springs/ sauna facilities are a zen-inducing treat to saunter through, but it’s the inhabitants that really set this place apart from the more traditional fantasy towns you’ll have visited thus far on your journey. Speaking exclusively in haiku, the townsfolk address you in such a way that’ll have you at once impressed by the game’s remarkable localisation, and also concerned for the mental health of the Hottonians.

Just to bang on about the towns a tad more, the smaller details are bewildering. Things like bowls of food and table arrangements are both perfectly logical and visually brilliant, which appeases nitpicking arsebiscuits such as myself quite nicely. If you’d like to hear a more in-depth discussion on the topic of the game’s wonderful towns, feel free to check out Kotaku’s delightfully odd critique on the game.

Now to dispense with all the technical jibber-jabber which I find far less interesting. The turn-based combat is fairly standard for a game of this type but does give you the option to run around the battlefield in between turns, which may soothe the more fidgety player. Additionally, the pep system is intriguing in that it dispels the common issue in JRPGs of being repeatedly having your balls battered by higher-level foes. Essentially, if a party member takes consecutive hits, they’ll enter a state where they go full Blue Man Group and dish out extra damage and such. This can also allow for special attacks accompanied by flashy animations reminiscent of powering up sequences in Dragon Ball.

Speaking of party members, the game hosts a wonderful cast of endearing characters with wildly different backgrounds, designs, and combat techniques. The absolute highlight for me so far has been Veronica, the sassy, pint-sized magician who gives you more shit than a rabbit with irritable bowel syndrome. But while Veronica is a near-constant delight, not every companion with which you fight can match the same level of brilliance. I’m now referring to Erik, an ex-thief who just blindly follows you about during the game’s opening hours spouting some poor dialogue made all the worse by a dodgy voice acting performance, with his accent bouncing from English to Italian American and neither sounding quite right. 

On the technical side of things, the game boasts some bright and crisp visuals powered by the Unreal Engine 4. Having tried out the recent Switch port of the game, I have to say the PS4 Pro seems to be the way to go for clearer, sharper textures and models (shocking, I know), but it’s a handsome package on every platform. The soundtrack is also strong and weirdly nostalgic considering I’ve never played a game in the series prior to this, but the bubbly, bouncing tunes just feel like slipping into a divinely cushy sonic onesie (No, not that Sonic, you degenerates). So yes, both your eyes and ears will swell with delight when this game’s grand vistas and chirpy tunes are at their best.

In summary, Dragon Quest XI is bloody lovely. It’s relaxing, enchanting and visually distinct, all without succumbing to the many pitfalls of the genre this series has helped to define over the decades. I’d recommend playing it in the evening with your +5 ‘Snug’ slippers equipped and either body-warmth buffing mug of hot chocolate or a +3 ‘Tipsy’ glass of wine equipped as your primary weapon. Eye-rolling jokes aside, I’d advise anyone who sees the appeal in the idea of a gaming bedtime story to try this series. Especially because it’s a bit of a pain in the arse trekking all the way to Disneyland just to bask in that warm, nostalgic glow before hitting the hay when, instead, you could just be popping in Dragon Quest XI.

Gaming

5 Guilty Pleasure Games

There are circumstances in which one might enjoy something which has received negative or mixed critical reception. For example, I adored last year’s Alita: Battle Angel in spite of its critics citing some funky pacing and clunky dialogue. I, for one, eat that shit up because the film is essentially live-action anime done right. Alternatively, there are those times when I find myself having fun despite knowing full well the media product with which I am engaging is a flaming pile of dog shit. Here are five such cases (in no particular order)…

1. Dead by Daylight

This is probably the most frustrating case on this list because the concept has so much dang potential. If only the game had been executed with even a semblance of technical competence. A-symmetrical multiplayer offerings seem to be on the rise after a false start with Evolve, as the new Resident Evil: Project Resistance, as well as the new Predator: Hunting Grounds game, are both encroaching release.

With four players tasked with surviving the attacks of a fifth player filling the role of killer, the setup is hugely promising. Where the game falls down, though, is in the game itself. There’s very little the survivors can do other than fix generators, which requires only the holding of the right bumper, with the occasional tapping of the left bumper. This is referred to as a skill check, but it’s actually just a quick-time event (AKA prostate cancer if it was a game mechanic).

Not to mention, it’s also strikingly ugly with PS1-level textures and hideous character models limping around the map. But, despite all this, I’ve had a tremendous amount of fun over the past couple of week playing it with my friends, as, with the right person playing as the killer, the matches change from slogging through tedious objectives into a tense game of cat and mouse, or rather
mice.

With no means of attacking the killer, every encounter and defeat you suffer at the hands of your common enemy will make your bumhole clench with all its might. The experience is also helped along by the deeply customisable perk
system, which allows you to tailor your chosen survivor or killer to your play style. Brilliant stuff, if you can look past the stodgy gameplay and wonky
presentation.

2. Worms Battlegrounds

You may read the title of this entry and think to yourself, but Worms is a decent little series which accomplishes everything it sets out to do, is it not? And to that I retort, how do you fuck up Worms? Well, you can start by releasing a technically functional port. Instead, Worms Battlegrounds for the PS4 is a laggy, dated, awkwardly controlling, seemingly low-effort affair.

However, it is undeniably a hilarious experience with friends, as you attempt to kill each other ion the most strategically creative ways impossible. Exploding sheep, holy hand grenades and kamikaze punches round out a roster of unwieldy weaponry.

Furthermore, with the matches being as short as ten minutes, the many deaths of your loyal legion of wriggly soldiers are more amusing than frustrating, as you can always try something different next match. Plus, my friend once lost his blob with the game because he fired a homing rocket, which proceeded to turn around and hit him directly in the face, which may be the funniest shit I’ve ever seen.

3. Dead Island

Essentially the Jersey Shore of video games, Dead Island is easily the trashiest game I’ve played in my twenty years upon this mudball. Its tacky presentation, loathsome characters, clunky combat, and dreadful narrative throughline should
make this an objectively painful experience. But it’s not. And that’s thanks to a couple of things, one of which is co-op. tearing around the zombie-infested resort island with some friends, stomping skulls in and wading through pools filled with body parts and beach balls is wonderfully cathartic, and salvages what would otherwise be a miserable solo experience.

Although, there is one missing feature which makes this game the one I like the least on this list. For some reason, the devs included a frankly beautiful mode in which your fists defy the physics engine and send zombies flying with every
punch, but this is inaccessible in co-op. I don’t think a greater sin has ever been committed, as this could’ve made the game genuinely worth its often dirt-cheap asking price. But, as it stands, you’ll still probably get a few hours of laughs out of this one, as long as you don’t take any of it remotely seriously.

4. No Man’s Sky

As perhaps the greatest disappointment in the gaming industry, No Man’s Sky holds a special place on this list; Not least because it has since forged its own path and become one of this generation’s greatest recovery stories (We’re still waiting on that from Microsoft lmao). With updated technical aspects, new traversal and economical systems and a whole heap of quality of life changes, No Man’s Sky is now an okay game worth a little bit of your time and money.

But, much to my shame, I actually liked this game at launch when it was just a simulation of trillions of empty planetoids with fuck all to do on them. The
aesthetics, the soundtrack, and general atmosphere had me glued to the screen for about fifteen hours, before I realised I was just hopping from one rock to the next, collecting fuel and booting randomly generated animals up the arse.

I’ve gone back and played it a fair amount since, and it’s safe to say that, if you like space exploration fiction and pastel colours, No Man’s Sky is a far easier recommendation now than it ever was back in 2016.

Legend of the Galactic Heroes (IGDB.com)

5. The Order 1886

Dem graphics doe. This ostensibly summarises my entire opinion on Ready at Dawn’s ludicrously lavish The Order 1886. Even with its complete lack of mechanical depth, meaningful engagement from the player and abruptly short campaign, I still can’t help but find this game impressive as all heck.
A cover-based third-person shooter set against the backdrop of a smoky, gothic Victorian London complete with werewolves and a whole Nikola Tesla, The Order presents a heart-achingly realised and visually distinct world.

Where it falls flat for many is its brain-dead gameplay and absence of content. Had it featured co-op, a well-done horde mode or even just a longer story, The Order 1886 could’ve been the start of a successful franchise, albeit with basic
foundations that prioritise form over all else. But, as it stands, 1886 remains a sadly missed opportunity many simply skipped over. But, having actually
enjoyed my time with the game, I wouldn’t say no to a belated PS4 Pro patch with 4K and HDR support, please and thank you xoxo.

Gaming

Games of Endless Enjoyment

As a certified woman, I love Animal Crossing, but not just because of the bright colours and the cutesy characters (although that does help) but also the category it fits into. I’m not quite sure the name of the category but to generalise is games which have no end goal.
Having nothing to work towards makes the game more fun in my opinion. You’re not pressured to do anything, no time limits and no restrictions. You can just run around and do nothing and it won’t matter since nothing is consequential.

 


They’re easy to jump in and out, so when you forget about it for a while and come back there’s no confusion of where you are out what you’re doing, and even if there is, like say you played Minecraft one time three months ago. You turn on the game and you’re stuck in a mine. It really doesn’t matter. You could continue further, you could turn around and find your bearings. There’s nothing in control and it’s so liberating. Exiting quickly is always easy too, you can’t get stuck in a level trying to defeat a boss for half an hour (Okumura boss fight I’m looking at you) when you need to leave for work in 10 minutes and everything is a disaster and you’ve wasted the last 2 hours because you forgot to save. Not talking from experience of course.

 


Another thing about these games is that they fill in a void for people in their late teens/early adulthood. As the economy is destroyed by baby boomers it’s harder to imagine a good life, so in animal crossing when you pay off a home loan or even your whole mortgage, it gives you a sense of accomplishment that seems unrealistic in real life. It also makes you feel like you have friends who love to spend time with you and also this super cute my melody backpack, which could never happen for real.

 


They keep you creative. Plenty of times during childhood I’ve felt like I’ve been forced to fit into a box, but with endless possibilities, there’s no box to fit in, your imagination can go wild. Games like Minecraft and Happy Home Designer give you the freedom to make things how you want (with limited supplies of course) even if they’re super weird and time-consuming.

HNI_0021

An honourable mention would also be Persona 5. Yes there is a story and Morgana constantly makes you sleep, but there are small sections between palaces where you can just go out and increase social ranks (AKA go on a date with Ryuji, let a girl dream) and just do random semi-open world things like go fishing (Because every game needs fishing, apparently).

Phantom Thieves Meeting (IGDB.com)

Gaming

Destiny 2, and the Satisfaction in Statistics

Leveling up. Getting that new piece of powerful gear. Unlocking a new section of the map. Video games are a medium uniquely suited to a particular sort of satisfaction which, while seemingly very boring, is very adept at creating a time vacuum. Let’s look at some examples, my dudes…

As the title suggests, Destiny 2 and games of a similar ilk (Diablo, Borderlands, The Division, not Anthem etc.) are prime examples of this systemic absorption of your attention. And yet, it creates this gloriously addictive feedback loop in the simplest possible manner, with a number. The light level of the first game and the power level of the second essentially act as a summary of your dedication to acquiring dat juicy loot, be it weapons or armour pieces.

This not only facilitates build diversity but also the most important aspect of the series. Fashion. Let’s be real my gamer brethren, no one actually plays Destiny for the various stat bonuses and unique abilities that come with each piece of exotic armour, apart from fuckin’ nerds that is. But us Chad gamers spend hours tuning our look to be as cool and as ostentatious as is humanly possible. And for this, power level serves as a means of making your freshest garments feel even more exceptional.

Furthermore, legendary designer Koji Igarashi’s latest romp, Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night, offers this same kind of power fantasy, but it’s complemented by an exploration system that makes it feel both daunting and wholesomely rewarding to uncover every hidden passage and mark every key location you come across. The game is very good at prodding your squishy brain and making you want to continue your adventure by showing you its spider’s web of blue tiles, representing the gloriously interwoven map.

Further compounding this encouragement to push on is the subtle but effective inclusion of a percentage which tells you how much of the sprawling map you’ve charted. Well done Igarashi-san, you are a masterful game designer and you have earned a biscuit from me should we ever meet.

And finally, we come to a game which I have somehow never mentioned on this blog, Persona 5 (AKA objectively the greatest game ever made and you can fight me to the death if you think otherwise). The Persona series has always boasted some stylish ass UI, but P5 takes the cake in respect of showing you just how far you’ve come over your 100-hour journey. The little musical notes that drift and dance above characters with whom you’ve just shared a meaningful reaction, as well as the utterly ingenious star diagram that effectively conveys all of your social stats solidify P5 as a masterclass in how to deliver information to the player with style.

Moreover, in terms of statistics-based mechanics that incite an emotional reaction, there’s nothing quite like studying your little anime arse off in the run-up to exams, only to tip over into the next level of knowledge the day before it all kicks off and you’re met with questions covering the most obscure topics possible. Similarly, in the other half of the game, which sees the player scouring intricate dungeons looking for a scrap, the post-battle graphics pop and weave across the screen in perfect harmony with the God-tier soundtrack, making you feel as though you’ve become stronger, even if it’s just by an increment.

So yeah, numbers are nerdy for the most part, but they’re a vital component of video games, and it should be applauded when developers use them in just the right way, to get your dopamine flowing and your fingers itching for another hit of XP. That’s pretty much the only conclusion I can draw from this semi-coherent ramble, so thank you for reading if you’ve gotten this far. Hopefully next week, I will actually manage to get my post out on time.